


no need to say goodbye

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: Alpha Stiles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott, Alpha Stiles, Canon Divergence, Gen, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:09:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He clenches his fist as he thinks this, as his eyes flash. He’s annoyed, has never had this much trouble with controlling anything, not even his mouth or his anxiety, and it sucks, makes him feel a bit like he’s backed up a few years, no control of his own body again. He hates this feeling of no control, it reminds him too much of being possessed by something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no need to say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part 2, a bit longer than part 1. 
> 
> Title from Regina Spektor's "The Call".
> 
>  **edit 12/30:** I extended the first scene so that it ties in stronger to the rest of the story and makes this bit a bit longer :)

“I’ll be there tomorrow.”

It’s Stiles who ends up delivering the news to Cora. Her accent is heavier than the last time he talked to her, some weeks ago when he happened to be in Derek’s apartment as he was Skyping her. Stiles is the only one who has her phone number besides Lydia, and she only has it for _emergencies_ and the occasional text, whereas Stiles texts her fairly regularly, a small conversation every couple of months, the “happy birthday” and “happy holidays” texts that get sent out sometimes.

So it’s decided that, as the person besides Derek who talks to her regularly, Stiles gets to call her.

It’s hard. Being around so often when the Hale’s were talking (just always in the right place, right time kind of thing), Stiles knew how close she and Derek had gotten since her decision to move back to Argentina, thanks to Skype and international phone calls and plenty of texts. Even if they hadn’t been _that_ close, which they were, Derek was pretty much the only family Cora had left besides Peter, who she had next to no contact with.

“I’m sorry, Cora,” he sighs into the phone as he thinks it over, how hard it must be for her to lose the rest of her family. Cora gives something like half a sob back, and he can hear the tears in her throat as she replies.

“Just,” she starts, then stops, and they listen to each other breathe for a moment before she continues.

“I’ll be there tomorrow. Wait for me before you do anything?”

Stiles nods before he remembers they’re on the phone, but doesn’t get a chance to correct himself before Cora’s saying, “Thank you, for calling me, I’ll see you tomorrow” and hanging up as he lets out a “bye”.

Stiles sighs again, setting his phone down on the edge of his bed and looking across the room to the mirror above his dresser, and watches as his eyes involuntarily flash again. He flops down, pushing the heels of his palms to his eyes because it all feels so _wrong_.

There’s – well, there’s of course that he’s never wanted this. He’s never wanted to be a ‘wolf though he can easily admit that it’s cool, that there are pros, that there’s nothing _wrong_ or monstrous about it even though Scott and Derek still had some trouble accepting that last part. But it’s not that, even; if he’d become an alpha _any other way_ , he could deal. It would be hard and not necessarily _wanted_ but it could be done. With his pack Stiles knows he could deal with anything.

But doing it this way – that’s what’s hard. Losing Derek and having to then deal with becoming the alpha was a lot. It frankly feels like way too much because he’s grieving, he should be grieving and he is because Derek. Well. Derek was his best friend; he and Scott are hella close, still, even and especially through everything, but while Scott is his brother-from-another-mother, Derek is – was -  the one Stiles goes to. When he’s home, on breaks or weekends from Stanford, he spends more time at the loft than he does even at his own house, spends more time with Derek than anyone in the pack other than Lydia and that’s only because she’s in Palo Alto with him.

Beyond all the alpha-ness and all of it is, more importantly and much harder to deal with, that Derek is _dead_. It’s – it’s too much to think about, really, hurts like a motherfucker like a god damn spear through his heart, like a band wrapped around his lungs that’s squeezing harder and harder with every breath as he thinks about this – about Derek, and Stiles can fast feel a panic attack coming on. His breathing starts to get harder, vision blurring and he can’t, he can’t –

There’s a whine through the pack bond, and it grounds him somewhat, at least enough to take a deep breath, his vision coming mostly back into focus. His heart is still hammering, eyes watery, body shaking, and another whine has him taking another deep breath. He knows that the pack can feel what he’s feeling, knows that some of that grief, that utter despair, is not his, but it’s all a _lot_ , almost (so incredibly close to being) too much. But a panic attack – he wonders how _that_ feels through the bond, to the pack, to Scott especially. Rough, harsh, an echo of a panic attack and most of the pack has never experienced them, it must be scary to feel for the first time.

He takes another deep breath, only letting it out as he closes his eyes, because even as he knows he needs to keep himself calm there’s still the sense of anguish that’s _mostly_ his ramming around in his head because Derek was – his best friend, frankly and yes, but also more than that. He was – it’s not something Stiles has even fully admitted to himself, too scared of the cliché and the sadness that would follow, but he’s quite _in love_ with Derek. And it – it hurts on that level too. He was _pack_ , he was his _best friend_ , he was quite possibly (and oh does this sting) the love of his fucking life and he hadn’t even had the guts to admit to _himself_ , besides try to express it to the man himself, to attempt something beyond what they already had.

The tears well up for real then, the lump in his throat growing and he presses his fingers to his eyes, sucking in another breath as a sob racks his body.

*

“Cora will be here later tonight,” Stiles tells the pack the next morning, pushing himself up to sit on the wide windowsill, “She texted me earlier today, got a flight for early this morning with a short layover in LA. She’ll rent a car and meet us here.”

“Here” is the loft – a bit cozier than it had been two years previous when they’d all gone off to different colleges, Derek had built some makeshift walls, sectioned off the big room more, bought a couple of couches and some chairs and two huge beanbags and a TV, moved his bed upstairs to an actual bedroom, renovated the kitchen.

“Had to do something with you all off to college and the attacks fewer and far between,” he’d told Stiles once, with a small, gentle smile. It was odd, even now, to see Derek smile like that, and Stiles couldn’t help but smile back.

The pack, Stiles realizes as he looked over them all, has never looked so desolate; the closest they’d come recently was back in the February their senior year, when Lydia had almost died from an infestation of trolls. No smiles, no laughter, they’re all completely somber. Kira’s eyes are still red-rimmed and Lydia looks more haunted that she ever has. More than that, Stiles can _feel_ it, the sadness of the room, of his _pack_ , more than he ever has before.

If these feelings are things Derek and Scott have dealt with all these years, Stiles has got to give them more credit, because it heightens and deepens his own feelings, making them heavier and harder to deal with.

He clenches his fists as he thinks this, as his eyes flash. He’s annoyed, has never had _this_ much trouble controlling anything, not even his anxiety or his mouth, and it sucks, makes him feel a bit like he’s backed up a few years, no control of his own body again. He hates the feeling of no control, it reminds him too much of being _possessed_.

“Dude,” Scott says, and Stiles looks up, realizing everyone’s staring at him, everyone looking agitated and anxious.

“You okay?” Scott continues, and Stiles nods, blinking away the feelings as bet he can. He knows they can all feel the connection, the bond, as well as he can. They can feel his feelings too, as well as he can feel theirs and that means that he has to stay _calm_ and good god, Scott and Derek have had to deal with a _lot_ over the past few years, haven't they?

“I’m good,” he replies, letting out a deep breath. The tension breaks a moment later, with Scott saying, “Okay, I think that’s it for now, we’ve just gotta wait for Cora. Um, Allison, Lydia? Do you wanna maybe to get us some food?”

Allison and Lydia nod, gathering their things and heading out, as Isaac and Erica head out to the kitchen after softly asking if anyone wants anything to drink. Scott gets up from his place on the couch and comes over to Stiles, worry deep in his brow.

“You sure you’re okay, man?

Stiles bites his inner lip and sighs, knowing the rest of the pack are listening in even if they’re trying not to.

“I need you – can you help teach me how to control this better?” he asks Scott, and he feels wrong asking Scott this, Scott who he’s helped through the years. Scott levels him with a stare for just a moment before he gives him a sad smile and nods.

*

It’s falling on ten o’clock when Cora arrives in town. Stiles can feel the energy of the land, of _his_ territory, change as she passes into it. He both feels and sees Scott tense up a bit at the same moment, and it takes another one before he realizes that more than Cora entered, another supernatural being. A werewolf, if his instincts are correct, and they usually are.

“Is it an alpha?” he asks Scott, because there’s a distinct difference in power between Cora and the other, but he can’t quite tell. Scott shakes his head, giving Stiles a small smile anyway for even recognizing the second being – he was already falling into the powers naturally, advanced enough to have been an alpha for longer than twenty-four hours.

“I think it’s…second-in-command? And…” he tilts his head to the side as Stiles feels them moving closer, “Cora. She feels different than last I saw her, I think. I can’t…be sure, I wasn’t an alpha long enough around her to know for sure, but she feels stronger.”

The rest of the pack are silent, listening in to Scott and Stiles’ conversation, and it’s only a couple more minutes before all the weres cock their head to the side, the loft close enough to the edge of town, of the territory. Boyd speaks up with “I can hear the car” and a few grunts of agreement from the others. It’s just moments before Stiles can hear it too, just down the road. Everyone tenses, and Stiles can feel slight anger that’s only partially his boiling in his chest at Cora bringing new blood into the territory without warning. Scott glances over with a look of reassurance, and it helps to calm the alpha in Stiles, at least.

All the weres are concentrating, and Stiles wonders if Cora and her partner are talking outside, if the rest of the pack can hear it, if it’s loud enough even for Lydia, who’s hearing is better than a human’s but less so than a were. It’s not long before Stiles can hear the footsteps echoing through the building as they climb the four stories to the loft.

It’s Stiles who meets them at the door, opening it even before Cora can knock, and it’s quite a sight, seeing Cora in person for the first time in three and a half years. She looks the same, but distinctly different as well; a bit darker, her hair cut short and ends bleached, and even Stiles can sense the strength exuding from her. The alpha inside him immediately accepts her into the pack as her scent, slight enough that Stiles can barely smell it but enough, hits him. She isn’t _part_ of their pack, he knows, but she’ll always have a place.

Cora gives him a small and sad smile, so much like Derek’s that it takes some of his breath away even as she steps forward to hug him. The hug is a little strained and awkward at first, but mostly okay as Stiles wraps his arms back around her. There’s a small amount of growling behind him, but they both ignore it as she steps back with a “hi”.

“Hey,” he responds in kind as she looks over his shoulder at the rest of the pack, half of whom are stood almost directly behind him, the other half who are not-very-subtly perched tensely on various furniture further into the living room.

“Come in,” he tells her, moving out of the way and settling his eyes for the first time on the man behind Cora. A man, a couple inches shorter than Stiles. A werewolf, Stiles immediately knows, he looks to be in his fifties or sixties, hair shoulder-length and light grey, eyes pale, skin dark and starting to wrinkle. The man watches Stiles right back and the growling behind him picks up a notch, and he hears a furious, hushed “shut up!” from Lydia. He barely stops his smirk as the man’s eyes flick with something that Stiles recognizes is recognition, and the man tips his head slightly, some small form of submission in acknowledgement of the alpha. He follows Cora into the room after Stiles gives a small nod in return, alpha settling at the sign of deference from the older wolf. Stiles closes the door behind the man, and there’s a second of silence before Cora speaks up.

“Stiles, Scott,” she greets, giving the rest of the pack a nod, “This is Orion Escovado. He’s our alpha’s first beta.”

“And he’s here with you?” Scott asks, leaving the “because…?” unsaid. Orion’s eyes leave Stiles, who he’s been looking at cryptically for the last few moments, to look at Scott instead.

“When Stiles told me how Derek died,” Cora continues, glancing somewhat nervously between Stiles, Scott, and Orion, with a flick over to the rest of the pack occasionally, “I remembered the story from one of our pack from about twenty, twenty-five years back. It happened pretty much the same way; an omega with something magical went wild and feral and killed off the then-alpha. I remembered what happened, and that Orion was the one to do it, and asked him to come with me and see if he couldn’t help us – um, you all.”

“Help us with what?” Lydia speaks up to ask, her expression calculating, and Stiles can feel the exact look on his own face.

“Guys,” Cora starts again, looking around at all of them before her eyes land solely on Stiles, “I think we can bring Derek back from the dead.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I feel like I should be saying "Dun dun dun..." right about now but that would be pretty cheesy wouldn't it. 
> 
> I'm also having a difficult time deciding if I want this to become something of a Derek/Stiles story, because I half do and half really don't. **edit 12/30:** so I obvs ended up deciding to do so, what can I say, I'm a super fucking sucker for sterek, enjoy the extended scene!


End file.
